Author's note: Hi, everyone! It's me, trying out my hand at Yu-Gi-Oh! BWAHAHA!!! Nothing is safe from my imagination!
Bakura: Hey, aren't I supposed to do that?
Shelly: I'm an authoress, so I claim exclusive rights to that.
Bakura: O-kay.
Shelly: That's all right, you'll be okay.
Bakura: It's you I'm worried about.
Shelly: *sigh* Why don't you go spend some time with Mau or something? (She's from Schala's excellent fics, who Biowolf posts fics for. Go read 'em now!)
Bakura: Her brother won't let me.
Shelly: Since when have you let Valon get in your way?
Bakura: -_- You'd enjoy seeing me get thrashed, wouldn't you?
Shelly: *smiles real big* You betcha!
Bakura: Ra help me.
Hope you all enjoy it! Please review and let me know!
The Heart of Eternity by Shelly
CHAPTER ONE
The yelling and screaming had been going on for hours as the accusations flew back and forth between the two adults, leaving no doubt that the entire neighborhood would have heard them. Only one other was there, and she wished fervently that she was somewhere else right now. It was always like this whenever her father drank, and her mother wasn't much better as she always yelled at him whenever he did. It was enough to make her head hurt, and she managed to slip out her window to go around to the front porch where she could get some air. Her parent's voices still raged inside, but they were muted enough to the point where it was bearable.
The evening sun lit the sky beautifully in various shades of pink and gold, touched on the edges with tints of violet and indigo. The air was cool against her skin, but she didn't care as long as she was away from them, the breeze playing through the dark strands of her hair and fanning them around her shoulders. Her green eyes squeezed shut, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill forth as she clutched the pendant she wore under her white sweater.
It was all she had left of her grandmother, the only person who had truly cared about her in her whole life, perhaps even more than her true parents. But in the end even they came to understand her importance, and ended up protecting her at the cost of their own lives. It was a nightmare that she experienced every night of her life since then, leaving her with little sleep and even less hope for her future. Why? Why did they sacrifice themselves for her and leave her to live in this hell that was her life?
A ragged sob was torn from her throat, and she ran blindly out into the evening darkness, not looking where she was going and not caring in the least. All that mattered was that she needed to get away from here, away to a place that was quiet and could afford her some time to herself.
She crashed into someone, feeling them both crash to the ground, and the palms of her hands were skinned as she tried to break her fall. Her eyes opened when she heard a boy's voice ask her if she was all right, and she looked up to see a boy about her age leaning over her and offering his hand to help her up. All she could see was his blond hair hanging into his brown eyes, which seemed to be genuinely concerned for her, and she swatted his hand away.
"I don't need your help," she told him, her voice sharp and full of pain.
He straightened up with his hands crossed in front of his chest, a disapproving scowl on his face. "Dat wasn't very nice of ya," he pointed out. "I was jus' tryin' ta help."
She glanced at her stinging palms and clenched them tightly, ignoring the pain. "Look, I said I don't need your help, all right? I just want to be left alone!" Tears were leaking from her eyes now, and she hastily wiped them away with the back of her hand.
He stood there a moment, his head turning towards her house when he heard the voices from inside, and his features softened towards her as he knew what she was going through. Not caring in the least what she thought, he sat back down beside her, ignoring her sound of protest. "Lissen, I know what you're goin' through, an' bein' alone isn't the answer," he told her softly.
She looked over into his dark eyes, feeling very vulnerable and yet trying to stay defensive as it was her only defense against being hurt. Over the years she had learned that it was easier being alone, especially since everyone that had cared for her was dead, and she was afraid of it happening again. "I suppose you're going to be the one to tell me what is, right?" she asked bitterly.
To her surprise, he smiled, and she actually thought that he looked cute, something that shocked her. "Na, dat's not what I'm gonna do," he replied. "Ya have ta find it yaself. But I can say dat it helps ta have friends who know how ya feel." Then he studied her features for a moment, thinking that she looked familiar as well as one of the cutest girls he had ever seen. "I've seen ya 'round school, haven't I?" he asked.
She was caught off guard by the sudden change in conversation. "I think so," she replied slowly. "What's your name?"
"I'm Joey, nice ta meet ya," he offered, holding out his hand for her to take.
"I'm Shari," she answered, taking hold of his hand for a second before letting go. His hand had been warm and strong, speaking of confidence and a strong will.
He cocked his head at her in confusion. "Sherri?" he repeated.
She sighed, becoming used to it by now that no one could pronounce her name correctly. "No, it's Shari. The 'a' is like the 'a' in car. Sha-ri."
"Oh, right!" he exclaimed, putting a hand behind his head. "Sorry 'bout dat!"
She couldn't help but smile at him. "Your accent is heavy," she pointed out. "Are you American?"
He nodded. "Sure am!" he replied proudly. "I'm from New York! And ya sound like you're not from 'round here either."
"No, I'm not," she said. "I was born in Egypt, but both my parents were American."
He heard the pain in her voice and decided not to press her any further. But if she referred to her parents as dead, then who was she living with? A family member, maybe? Just then their time was interrupted by a woman yelling at her from the front door, and her words were not kind.
Shari looked away, wishing Joey didn't have to hear that. But she turned back when she felt his hand light on her shoulder. "I'm sorry about that, Joey," she said softly.
He smiled sympathetically. "Ah, it's okay. Don' worry 'bout it. See ya at school tamorrow?"
She returned his smile. "Of course." She rose to her feet as he did, and they gazed into each other's eyes for an awkward moment. "Thank you, Joey," she said. "I'm sorry that I acted the way I did at first."
He waved it off. "Don' mention it. See ya latah!" Then he started off in the direction he had been going.
She sighed. "Yeah, see ya, Joey," she whispered. "If I live that long after tonight," she added, bracing herself for what was to come once she went inside. Whenever her parents were like this, it was rare that she was excluded from their anger, and after what her mother saw she knew she was in for it.
**************
Well, what did you all think? Like it? Hate it? Don't care either way? Good, neither do I! Just kidding!
Thanks for reading! C-ya!
Bakura: Hey, aren't I supposed to do that?
Shelly: I'm an authoress, so I claim exclusive rights to that.
Bakura: O-kay.
Shelly: That's all right, you'll be okay.
Bakura: It's you I'm worried about.
Shelly: *sigh* Why don't you go spend some time with Mau or something? (She's from Schala's excellent fics, who Biowolf posts fics for. Go read 'em now!)
Bakura: Her brother won't let me.
Shelly: Since when have you let Valon get in your way?
Bakura: -_- You'd enjoy seeing me get thrashed, wouldn't you?
Shelly: *smiles real big* You betcha!
Bakura: Ra help me.
Hope you all enjoy it! Please review and let me know!
The Heart of Eternity by Shelly
CHAPTER ONE
The yelling and screaming had been going on for hours as the accusations flew back and forth between the two adults, leaving no doubt that the entire neighborhood would have heard them. Only one other was there, and she wished fervently that she was somewhere else right now. It was always like this whenever her father drank, and her mother wasn't much better as she always yelled at him whenever he did. It was enough to make her head hurt, and she managed to slip out her window to go around to the front porch where she could get some air. Her parent's voices still raged inside, but they were muted enough to the point where it was bearable.
The evening sun lit the sky beautifully in various shades of pink and gold, touched on the edges with tints of violet and indigo. The air was cool against her skin, but she didn't care as long as she was away from them, the breeze playing through the dark strands of her hair and fanning them around her shoulders. Her green eyes squeezed shut, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill forth as she clutched the pendant she wore under her white sweater.
It was all she had left of her grandmother, the only person who had truly cared about her in her whole life, perhaps even more than her true parents. But in the end even they came to understand her importance, and ended up protecting her at the cost of their own lives. It was a nightmare that she experienced every night of her life since then, leaving her with little sleep and even less hope for her future. Why? Why did they sacrifice themselves for her and leave her to live in this hell that was her life?
A ragged sob was torn from her throat, and she ran blindly out into the evening darkness, not looking where she was going and not caring in the least. All that mattered was that she needed to get away from here, away to a place that was quiet and could afford her some time to herself.
She crashed into someone, feeling them both crash to the ground, and the palms of her hands were skinned as she tried to break her fall. Her eyes opened when she heard a boy's voice ask her if she was all right, and she looked up to see a boy about her age leaning over her and offering his hand to help her up. All she could see was his blond hair hanging into his brown eyes, which seemed to be genuinely concerned for her, and she swatted his hand away.
"I don't need your help," she told him, her voice sharp and full of pain.
He straightened up with his hands crossed in front of his chest, a disapproving scowl on his face. "Dat wasn't very nice of ya," he pointed out. "I was jus' tryin' ta help."
She glanced at her stinging palms and clenched them tightly, ignoring the pain. "Look, I said I don't need your help, all right? I just want to be left alone!" Tears were leaking from her eyes now, and she hastily wiped them away with the back of her hand.
He stood there a moment, his head turning towards her house when he heard the voices from inside, and his features softened towards her as he knew what she was going through. Not caring in the least what she thought, he sat back down beside her, ignoring her sound of protest. "Lissen, I know what you're goin' through, an' bein' alone isn't the answer," he told her softly.
She looked over into his dark eyes, feeling very vulnerable and yet trying to stay defensive as it was her only defense against being hurt. Over the years she had learned that it was easier being alone, especially since everyone that had cared for her was dead, and she was afraid of it happening again. "I suppose you're going to be the one to tell me what is, right?" she asked bitterly.
To her surprise, he smiled, and she actually thought that he looked cute, something that shocked her. "Na, dat's not what I'm gonna do," he replied. "Ya have ta find it yaself. But I can say dat it helps ta have friends who know how ya feel." Then he studied her features for a moment, thinking that she looked familiar as well as one of the cutest girls he had ever seen. "I've seen ya 'round school, haven't I?" he asked.
She was caught off guard by the sudden change in conversation. "I think so," she replied slowly. "What's your name?"
"I'm Joey, nice ta meet ya," he offered, holding out his hand for her to take.
"I'm Shari," she answered, taking hold of his hand for a second before letting go. His hand had been warm and strong, speaking of confidence and a strong will.
He cocked his head at her in confusion. "Sherri?" he repeated.
She sighed, becoming used to it by now that no one could pronounce her name correctly. "No, it's Shari. The 'a' is like the 'a' in car. Sha-ri."
"Oh, right!" he exclaimed, putting a hand behind his head. "Sorry 'bout dat!"
She couldn't help but smile at him. "Your accent is heavy," she pointed out. "Are you American?"
He nodded. "Sure am!" he replied proudly. "I'm from New York! And ya sound like you're not from 'round here either."
"No, I'm not," she said. "I was born in Egypt, but both my parents were American."
He heard the pain in her voice and decided not to press her any further. But if she referred to her parents as dead, then who was she living with? A family member, maybe? Just then their time was interrupted by a woman yelling at her from the front door, and her words were not kind.
Shari looked away, wishing Joey didn't have to hear that. But she turned back when she felt his hand light on her shoulder. "I'm sorry about that, Joey," she said softly.
He smiled sympathetically. "Ah, it's okay. Don' worry 'bout it. See ya at school tamorrow?"
She returned his smile. "Of course." She rose to her feet as he did, and they gazed into each other's eyes for an awkward moment. "Thank you, Joey," she said. "I'm sorry that I acted the way I did at first."
He waved it off. "Don' mention it. See ya latah!" Then he started off in the direction he had been going.
She sighed. "Yeah, see ya, Joey," she whispered. "If I live that long after tonight," she added, bracing herself for what was to come once she went inside. Whenever her parents were like this, it was rare that she was excluded from their anger, and after what her mother saw she knew she was in for it.
**************
Well, what did you all think? Like it? Hate it? Don't care either way? Good, neither do I! Just kidding!
Thanks for reading! C-ya!